Spindrift
by EveningInHornersCorners
Summary: The castaways find something unexpected on the other side of the island, causing the Professor to reevaluate himself and everything he stands for.


The Professor sighed as he tossed the coconut he had been examining into the pile on his right. _Another_ blighted one.

It had been bad this year. Sure, they'd seen a few coconuts go bad before (and almost rejoiced, since everyone was so chronically sick of them) but never had there been such widespread contamination.

And it wasn't just this species. The bananas had also been desperate thus far and he preferred not to even think about the pineapples.

Getting to his feet, he stood back and observed the two disproportionate mounds before him. He shook his head, trying to make sense of the ratio.

"Four out of a hundred. You have any luck?" he called.

A few yards away, Mary Ann looked up from her own piles. "Three out of seventy-five." she replied bluntly, her voice clearly betraying unhappiness with her yield. Wiping at a tear in the corner of her eye, she left her stacks and went to the communal table, slumping up against it with crossed arms.

"It's hopeless, Professor. That's one coconut per person. Other than that we have two pineapples and three bananas. No papaya or guava or anything else to speak of. How are we going to survive?"

Joining her at the table, he sighed again. "There's still all the fish in the sea. And with a little luck…"

"You said it again."

He looked at the brunette curiously.

"What?"

"Luck. I thought there wasn't any luck with you, just science."

"Oh…" he glanced down at the ground. "Just a…slip or two of the tongue. Our food situation is wearing down on me a bit. I'm just not thinking about what I'm saying. Of course the very _idea_ that something like _luck_ actually exists outside of the confines of our mind is preposterous, to say the least…"

"Professor!"

He jerked his head up in the direction of the voice. Shading his eyes with his hand, he saw Ginger running down the beach, waving something in her hand.

"Professor, I found another banana!" she exclaimed, skidding to a stop by the table and slamming the yellow fruit down on it.

"Good work. That evens up the odds a little bit. Now instead of seven coconuts, two pineapples, and three bananas, we now have seven coconuts, two pineapples, and _four _bananas."

Doing the math in her head, Mary Ann sighed. "One short of two fruits per person. It could be worse, I guess. Do you know how Gilligan and the Skipper are doing, Ginger?"

The movie star shook her head. "They're both in foul moods. The fish aren't biting at all. They did catch a little bit of seaweed, though. They were wondering if you could identify it and determine its safety, Professor."

"Oh, I'd be glad to. Why don't you come along, Mary Ann? It might be useful to you in your future culinary endeavors."

"Alright. What harm could it do?" Rising from her seat, she refused the offer of his hand and instead walked several feet behind him.

He emitted another sigh, the third in the past few minutes. Mary Ann was just about as optimistic as they came. Everyone here knew it.

And when a situation could make her hopeless, they knew it was bad.

###

Though the seaweed turned out to be edible, the castaways hardly ate well that night. Nobody wanted to touch the fruits—they seemed too precious—and a day of fishing had yielded exactly two decent sized halibuts. Still, Mary Ann had cooked them and parceled them out as evenly as she could, though he noted that she gave herself the smallest portion. The same went for the seaweed.

Not one of them spoke as they worked their way through the food, trying to make each bite last just a little bit longer than the last. Even doing this, however, it only lasted a certain amount of time, and after the plates had been licked clean, the Professor stood up. Everyone looked at him with clouded eyes.

"I'm…I'm sure you're all aware of the situation with our food. Uh…the majority of the fruits we've found recently are blighted, while some varieties have disappeared entirely. The fish are becoming harder to catch, and while we have come across edible seaweed, there isn't a great abundance of it. Still, I urge you all to remember that…this will, most likely, pass. We should not…lose hope." He found his eyes drawn to Mary Ann as he said that last part.

"Well, Professor, what _do_ you suggest we do?" the Skipper asked impatiently.

He was quick in his reply. "Form a search party. There's a possibility that the fruits on the other side of the island are not infected, and the fishing may be better. I propose we send four individuals over while the other three stay here and hold down the fort."

"But _which_ four individuals?" Ginger asked testily.

"Well," Roy dragged a hand through his hair, "the most obvious choice would be for us men to go and leave you girls here. However, that might cause some problems. The three of you would be left unprotected, and if anything were to happen to us…well, Mr. Howell _is _a married man."

"And I'm a married woman." Mrs. Howell added, reaching for her husband's hand.

"But if we leave the Howells here on the grounds of marriage, who will the third person be?" the Skipper demanded.

"Perhaps to determine that we should examine our individual assets and try to make fair selections in regards to who should be where. I feel that I definitely need to be part of the search party, as I'm the most informed about tropical species and the like. Now, let us consider the attributes of the other eligible members: the Skipper can read the weather like a book and is no doubt the strongest among us. Mary Ann is the one who will be cooking with anything we find, and is small enough to fit into tight places. Gilligan is wiry, quick, and can climb trees with amazing agility. He has also had the experiences of the Navy and working under the Skipper. And Ginger, uh…" The Professor swallowed as he found himself at a loss for words.

As far as he knew she really _didn't_ have any skills that could be considered useful in this instance, and yet he could hardly just _say _that…

"Can do fabulous animal imitations."

Everyone looked at the movie star, shocked at her sudden vocalization.

"Ex…excuse me?" the scientist stuttered.

Ginger had a wistful smile on her face. "I once convinced a male tiger that I was a lady tiger. I think we really would have gotten into it if Cary Grant hadn't stepped in at the last minute and saved me."

"Besides," Mary Ann added excitedly, "have you ever heard her do a bird call? It's out of sight!"

"Oh?" the Professor said, sounding a bit skeptical.

"Here, let me show you." The redhead drew in a breath; when she let it out, it came as an intricate whistle.

The Professor looked amazed. "Catherpes mexicanus! That's brilliant, Ginger!"

Gilligan looked puzzled. "Cathy _who_?"

"Canyon wren."

"Oh. Yeah." The first mate shuffled his feet and grew quiet.

Roy cleared his throat. "Anyway, back to business. We have four possible candidates. But there's one more facet we ought to consider before making our final decision: whoever is left will be responsible for protecting the Howells and anything we don't take with us. It is quite imperative that we make the right decision for who should be in charge of that large undertaking. Ladies, with all due respect, I think you ought to be ruled out of this running. You both have skills that would be useful on the trail, and it would unfair to leave one of you here while the other went along. Besides, as, um…_well-endowed _as you both are, so to speak, I doubt that…I wouldn't think… Without trying to sound tactless, girls, I don't think either of you would be a very effective, um…_guardian _for the camp. That is, I don't believe your physical presences would be intimidating enough to any…_intruders_."

Mary Ann nodded. "I agree, Professor. What about you, Ginger?"

"Anything to get out into the excitement of the jungle, Mary Ann. Though, to a certain type of man," the movie star threw a sidelong glance at Gilligan, "I think my presence could be _very _intimidating."

"That leaves the Skipper and Gilligan." the scientist continued, seemingly oblivious to what Ginger had just said. "Gentlemen, do you have any thoughts on the subject?"

The Skipper sighed. "Gilligan couldn't intimidate a fly if he had a swatter in one hand and bug spray in the other. If what we need back here is intimidating, I'll stay."

"Very good. Ladies, Gilligan, pack what you'll need tonight. We leave in the morning."


End file.
